Alone and Together With You
by satomobile
Summary: A missing scene from "Endgame." Tenzin comforts Lin after it looks like her bending is gone forever.


"It will take time for her to accept what has happened," Tenzin advised the young fire bender before him. Mako's shoulders sagged as they both watched the Avatar disappear in into the glowing white wilderness.

Tenzin's mind raced, it was part of his character to remain calm but he had to admit the fact that Korra had lost three-quarters of her bending was concerning; he fretted about what that would mean for the cycle of the Avatar, what that would mean for the entire world over time. Still, his face remained stoic as he watched her go over Mako's shoulder. It faltered only a moment when he heard the door to the house open and close behind him.

Lin exited his mother's home, closing the door as quietly as possible so as not to draw attention. Tenzin caught her eyes a moment, which were just as vacant and lifeless as her mother's had been. She looked away quickly, focusing instead on her feet, which swiftly moved down the wooden stairs before disappearing around the side of the house.

He knew where she was headed.

"Excuse me," Tenzin told Mako, who remained on the spot watching the snow swirl around him.

Tenzin gathered his cloak around himself in an attempt to warm. Now that he was walking directly into the wind, it felt as if it were cutting right through his robes to eviscerate his body with chill. He briefly considered using his bending to remedy this, but it didn't feel appropriate as he followed Lin's footprints through the snow around the house and out back to a small cemetery.

The headstones here were nearly buried by the powdery snow, looking more like melancholy road-bumps than final resting places. There was one on the far end which tilted slightly and that is where he found Lin. She knelt before it and cleared the snow away from the top, running her finger through the engraved bits so that the important words shone through.

_Brother_

_Husband_

_Father_

"Please go back inside," Lin spoke aloud, voice thick with emotion. She didn't turn to face him and he knew it was because she must be crying.

He hadn't yet gotten to thank her for all that she'd sacrificed; there hadn't been a good time, they hadn't yet been alone. His mouth opened to explain how much her actions were appreciated, but he was surprised to find the words blocked by the rising lump in his throat.

His eyes watered and he swallowed hard, "Lin…I can't go back inside." There was a beat of silence, "you know I can't."

The silence extended and Tenzin's stomach churned. Lin once told him, ages ago, that when she was quiet like this she was running through a mental list of things too cruel to say before settling on something acceptable. Her tongue must be bleeding from biting so hard.

"You don't have to thank me," she told him finally, "I don't want you to."

He shook his head, "I do. What you did was so selfless and so brave and I'm humbled-"

"It was suicide," she interjected, cutting him short.

He stood quietly for a moment, hoping she would expand and tell him that her thoughts weren't quite so dark.

"I thought I would die out there," she iterated, solemnly.

"You don't mean that," he followed, feeling a warm tear slip down his cheek.

She grunted, something between a scoff and a laugh before standing suddenly and turning to face him, "What did you think was going to happen? I'd pull those airships out of the sky and swim away unscathed when they blew up into a thousand pieces upon impact with the water?"

He shook his head, refusing to believe what she implied.

"I wanted to die. I should have died," she affirmed as tears painted tracks down her windswept and reddened cheeks.

The space between them was only a couple of feet and Tenzin closed the gap quickly as naturally as he'd done in the past to gather her into his arms.

"Don't say that," he admonished her, pulling her head to his chest.

She struggled against him weakly, unsure whether to accept his comfort, before giving up and sobbing once directly into his chest.

"I have nothing," she confessed, voice muffled by his robes and the howling wind.

Tenzin rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head lightly. It felt natural and not altogether romantic. She was his best friend from his earliest memories and that could never be discounted. Their attachment was deep, much deeper than the physical, but holding her was the only way to get his point across. She still had him, even if they were tarnished and bruised; he wasn't going to let her go through this alone.

"You'll always have me," he told her finally.

That was enough to snap her out of it and she pushed away from him, straightening herself out and sniffling, "I don't want your pity, Tenzin."

Her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched before she looked away. He knew she must be angry with herself for showing him vulnerability.

"It's not that, Lin," he groaned in frustration, "I love you."

The moment it came out of his mouth they both looked as if something had sent an electric current though their bodies, stiffening them. His words hung in the cool air between them, forming into tiny breakable crystals. They stood inches apart from each other, silence surrounding.

It was Lin who reacted first, crossing her arm over her chest before reaching up to brush away a threatening tear with the edge of her thumb. The corners of her mouth turned up, but it wasn't a smile, it was irony.

"Twelve years too late," she told him finally.

He lifted one hand to his forehead, dragging his palm down across his face with a heavy sigh, "I don't…I mean..," he sighed again, "I do love you," he finished resolutely. He let out another breath of relief, grateful to have the confession outside his body for once.

"I feel awful about the way things worked out Lin," he admitted, "but you have to understand where I was coming from."

She nodded, "I understand."

"Then how did we end up like this?" he wondered, desperately.

She shrugged, "because it hurt…it still hurts."

He nodded in agreement; it was a dull ache that he tried not to let himself feel. Each time they saw each other, it throbbed in his heart, but he was able to push it aside. Things weren't supposed to be messy like this when one is married with four beautiful children. He wanted his feelings to be clean and orderly, but that just wasn't the truth of it.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you," he told her softly.

She rolled her eyes, "If we're being honest I'm just as guilty as you."

He looked her in the eye and nodded gratefully. It was something he needed to hear as well. The blame for their failure fell on him because he was the one to finally bring the axe down and put their struggling relationship out of its misery. But Lin was the reason it was struggling. For someone so assured and decisive, she did an awful lot of dithering when it came to having children.

They were quite for a while as the wind whipped around them, the sound of Lin's snapping coat filling their silence.

"Why are we having this conversation now?" Lin wondered, shaking her head.

"Because we couldn't before," Tenzin offered.

It was true that neither of them were emotionally equipped to have this conversation at the time when it could have helped the most. Tenzin was stressed and miserable, while Lin was obstinate and bitter. There was no room for honesty twelve years ago, but now with nothing left honesty was all they had.

He still didn't feel comfortable divulging the entirety of his feelings. He wasn't about to tell her that he cried about her on his wedding night, or many nights since. There was nothing to be done about those things now and for the most part he was happy. He loved his wife and he loved his children too, but he missed his best friend terribly.

"I never wanted to lose you from my life," he began, "and I still don't."

"I'm not going to kill myself," she grumbled, "I'm just saying I wish I would have died out there. I don't have anything to live for. My job is gone, my bending is gone, my family…"

She reached one hand out and brushed the newly fallen snow away from the headstone.

"He could never bend in the first place," Tenzin reminded her somberly as he dusted off the other half.

"And he was twice as brave as I'll ever be," Lin supplied. Tenzin's hand moved along the stone and caught hers. He gathered her fingers gently in his palm and lifted her hand to his lips, imparting a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"Remember when he died," Tenzin led and Lin's eyes instantly reddened.

"How could I forget?"

"…You came into my bed and we just held on to each other. And when your Mom died too and then my Dad," he continued with a small hitch in his voice, "we never let each other go through it alone, Lin. I'm not about to let you face this by yourself. I know it will never be the same as it was, but I'm not letting you go."

Her lip quivered and she sniffled, "Thank you," she managed to choke out before falling back into his embrace. They stood together, holding one another as they always did in times of tragedy.

The wind picked up and this time Tenzin stopped it, encasing them in a warm air current instead. It swirled around them, their own little world apart from the rest. So much existed in that space that didn't need to be said. It was simply understood- things about the two of them, about their parent's legacies, about the uncertain future. It wrapped them up together, so tightly that they didn't hear the approaching footsteps, crunching the snow.

Katara cleared her throat, just behind her youngest son.

Their heads snapped up and they pulled apart reluctantly. The wind sliced through them again.

"Sorry to interrupt," she apologized, "but Lin, I thought you might be interested to know that Korra has just informed us that she's made a connection with Aang and he restored her bending. She thinks she might be able to help you."

Lin looked up at Tenzin, tentatively hopeful and then around him at Katara, "Are you sure?"

She shook her head, "I'm not sure, but it is worth a try, don't you think?"

Lin nodded, stepping around Tenzin to follow Katara back inside. He followed suit, walking just beside her, their shoulders bumping against one another.

Apart, but still together.

Always together.


End file.
